


Fancy Some Ice Cream?

by Wyrdmazer



Series: Translated Works [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Cheeky!Scorpius, Christmas, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Food Sex, Funny, Funny Scorbus, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Or Prelude To It, Post-Hogwarts, Scorbus, Sexual Humor, but it's not at all prominent here, it all started with butter, lame humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyrdmazer/pseuds/Wyrdmazer
Summary: You never know how life will flow, what will launch our inner train, how it'll go and where. But it's always a sure thing that it'll be fun! if you'll be next to me.





	Fancy Some Ice Cream?

**Author's Note:**

> **NARRATOR: Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.**

Sitting in our kitchen, using a knife to clean the crumbs from my plate with the proper delicacy – the perfect opposite of you – I decide to finally approach the topic that's been bothering me for a while.

I rise from the table to put the dirty dishes in the sink, then plop back down onto my seat, like the wind that's jiggling with snowflakes outside the window restlessly.

"Al," I clear my throat. "There's a thing... a really teeny-tiny detail..."

"Hm?" You look up at me expectantly.

I shift in my chair. The quiet creak it makes doesn't soothe me at all. "Why is our butter constantly put in a different way?"

You pause. And give me a shrug. "Makes it more interesting."

"But..." I swallow. "But it's unhealthy, Al!"

The last piece of your roulade disappears on the way to its sour destiny. "Why is that?"

"Because you're causing me anxiety!" My voice is only a little higher than usual. "I don't know what to expect next time I want to butter something! I can't know whether the butter will be in its package, or on a saucer, or in its package on a saucer, or in a little bowl, or in the butter dish, or in its package in the butter dish..." I clench my fingers in my hair. "It's stressful!"

Your face lits up. "Aw, honey, you could have said something earlier. You know?" You rise from the table and sit in my lap, hugging me, and I automatically wrap my arms around your waist, gazing into your eyes, green and shiny like the Christmas tree that's standing a few feet away. "But don't you worry, from now on, our butter will always be taken out of its package and placed in the butter dish. Good?"

I nod with a smile. "Very good. Thanks, honey. You do so much for me, I really can't get over how I managed to find a treasure like you in this cold, dark world."

"I would say it was _me_ who found you, but never mind. What matters is that we're together."

"Exactly."

You get up, and soon, your dishes land next to mine. I walk up to you and watch as you wash them, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Hey, Al?" I drop our little acting.

"Hmm?"

"You seriously put the butter in different ways only to make it more interesting?"

"Mhm." You rinse the foam and the remaining dish soap off the dishes.

"Interesting. You could have told me that you don't like monotony. I've been wanting to introduce some spice to our sex life for a while."

A smile tugs at your lips. "I would have never thought that butter can play a role in vamping up our range of sexual activities."

"Mmm," I purr, hugging you from behind. "I wonder how peanut butter would taste off your body."

Your laughter sounds like a storm in the distance, deprived of its dangerous factor. "And would you mind, say, your penis covered with raspberry sorbet?"

"No," my immediate response is filled with clear eagerness. But in the next second, my enthusiasm flops like the ears of a dog that thought he would get a treat. "But we don't have raspberry sorbet."

You turn around in my arms and enclose me in a twin embrace. "But we'll get it." You rub your hand over my back.

A thrill of adrenaline pierces through me. Something like a firework, only, one that rushes towards my south. "I'll go take a shower, you go buy the sorbet. Who's faster, will get–"

"–to give the other twenty spanks?"

I snort. "You enjoyed it last time, didn't you? Okay, deal."

"And what was your idea?" Your eyes are shining, and one could mistake them for enchanted ice crystals.

"Ah, just a little lame thing. Didn't beat your suggestion by many points." You raise your brows pointedly at me, a gesture that I bless with a smile of a candy-floss without sugar. "Striptease with ice cream."

"Merlin. I have a dilemma."

"Think through it on your way to the store and back then; I want your mouth on my cock so much I think I'm going to come in the shower."

"Scorpius!"

Laughing at your indignant face, I rush to the bathroom, unbuttoning my shirt.

* * *

I barely manage to lay my body out nicely for you in the centre of our large, well-worn bed, smelling of coconut soap and still wet here and there, when you barge in through our front door.

"I HAVE THE SORBET!" you announce, oh so very calmly.

"I HAVE A PENIS!" I shout back. And when you almost stumble over the threshold of our bedroom, I add cheerfully, gripping the aforementioned part of my body and pulling back the foreskin to reveal the leaking head, "Look how hard I am already. With a special dedication to you. And the sorbet."

"Devil is a lamb, compared to you, Scor, I swear," you pant, breathless, pulling your clothes off hastily.

"I've heard that many times, think of something new. I thought you get bored with monotony?" I purr, spreading my legs so that you can sit comfortably in between them.

"Stop bugging my brain with that sex-appeal of yours, and maybe it'll switch the creativity mode on. You know what, I fell over on the way back, and heroically saved our sorbet from tragic death, so you owe me a prize anyway." Your cold hands slide up my thighs, forcing an involuntary hiss out of me.

"I'll kiss you with proper care, just tell me where," I purr, stretching lazily, putting my naked body on display for your hungry eyes as your hands travel higher and higher, and finally, you hover over me.

"See for yourself."

But I can't do that, because you proceed to devour me in a kiss that is the extreme opposite of your freezing, gentle touch from a moment ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little silly piece (a translation of my "Masz ochotę na loda?"). I hope you enjoyed! Leave a kudos or a comment if you did – it would make my day!  
> Also, Merry Christmas!
> 
> PS: If you notice any mistakes, please, do point them out to me!


End file.
